


Like Real People Do

by ceryss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Civil War (Marvel), Vision is too pure for this world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceryss/pseuds/ceryss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Sokovia, Wanda Maximoff is left without a home, a purpose, and most direly, without her brother. She's lost, but luckily someone is set on finding her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Real People Do

It was easy, Wanda Maximoff decided, to be angry.

 

Anger was an emotion that spurred her on, warmed her insides, drove her with a vengeful purpose. Instead of remembering, she allowed her crimson power to flow unhindered throughout her mind and her body. Instead of mourning, she was vicious in her iciness, in her battle prowess, in all of her combat training.  Instead of rebuilding, she burnt whatever leftover soft feelings she had to ash and glowing rubble. After all, she was an Avenger now. So wasn’t that her purpose, to _avenge?_

 

When she trained with the others, she held nothing back. Day after day, she unleashed her fury on her teammates – red arcs spiraling this way and that, reckless in their force. If her teammates knocked her down, she got back up twice as determined as before. Eyes red, hands red, mind red, Wanda was a force of nature.

 

Yet still, she found moments in the heat of their mock battles, where she was instinctively waiting for her brother to snatch her away from attacks as he always had. She overestimated her time for counter-attacks again and again, simply because her unconscious mind told her Pietro was coming to grab her. But he never did, and due to her folly, she would be thrown backwards once more.

 

On a particular day, Sam Wilson laughed during their battle simulation. Hearing the pitch, the sound of it in the middle of chaos, Wanda absurdly thought it was Pietro laughing. She whipped around towards the noise, and saw only Sam Wilson… of course. In that moment, so overcome with grief and not caring in the least that Sam was on her side in this simulation, Wanda fell to her knees and allowed her magic to unfurl from within her, spanning out to a huge arc around her, throwing back opponent and ally alike.

 

When the rest of the Avengers arose, Wanda Maximoff remained crumpled over, head onto floor and tears rolling down cheeks. She felt their minds, her teammates’: wariness, fear, concern, pity, condescension, all mashed up into a confused jumble that overloaded her senses.

 

Steve was the one that pulled her up. “Let’s take some air.”

 

She nodded.

 

They walked away from the training room, up a flight of stairs, and onto the balcony overlooking the premises. It was a sunny day, with a slight breeze. The pair stood at the balcony railing for several long moments as Wanda’s tears dried and a new sense of shame replaced the previous agony.

 

“I know what you’re going through isn’t easy,” the Captain said finally, leaning on his forearms and looking out. “You lost everything, and with no offense meant, you are not coping well, Wanda.” He turned to look at her.

 

Wanda felt shame creeping up her neck, but anger too. Saying that what she was going through “wasn’t easy” felt like a colossal understatement to her.

 

Steve continued. “You have the ability to be a huge asset to this team, yet you let your anger at your circumstances prevent you from moving forward. And frankly, until you deal with these issues, I can’t have you training with us.”

 

At this, Wanda gasped aloud, turning to face the Captain fully. “What? I need to train… you do not understand! I need to –“

 

Before she could continue, he cut her off. “You’re wild, Wanda. You fight with no control, no mind at all to the consequences of your actions. You hurt your teammates and enemies alike. Have you noticed how the others take blows for each other? How they fight as one?”

 

Wanda considered this for a moment and realized he was correct. Rhodey was always taking down enemies from the air to cover Stark, and she definitely recalled Clint Barton saving her, and the others from attacks from the behind.

 

“You don’t fight as a team, Wanda.” Steve sighed and rubbed his wrist absentmindedly. “You fight for yourself and couldn’t care less if your teammates fall behind you.”

 

“That’s not true,” Wanda argued weakly, though she felt the truth to his words in the pit of her stomach. “I just am not used to having a large team, that’s exactly why I _need_ to practice. I’ll make more of an effort, I promise.” Her words were laced with pleading, and she felt a bit pathetic.

           

But she needed to fight. She needed a way to dispel this poison of never-ending pain she felt, and the totality of a battle was her only antidote.

 

Steve looked down at her with pity, and from what she could glean from his mind, true concern. Yet he did not relent. “I’m giving you a few weeks off… months if you need it. You need time to grieve, Wanda. I’m sorry it has to be this way but it’s for the safety of everyone involved, yours included.  I would suggest you find someone to talk to… and my door is always open if you need me.”

 

With that, he patted her on the shoulder and left the balcony, leaving her somehow even lower in spirits than she was before.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She missed her brother. That was never more clear than when she was dreaming. In the few days since Steve had dismissed her from practicing, Wanda found herself sleeping more than half the hours of the day. She would emerge to shower and eat, but whenever she was in the common rooms she felt the eyes and the minds of those around her, watching her carefully. She was so obviously on the outside of all social interaction. It would have bothered her if she wasn’t so consumed with her own troubles.

 

So she would retreat to her room, her self-imposed solitary confinement and sleep. And unfortunately dream.

 

Each dream was very similar. She would see Pietro, and his arm was outstretched to her. He called to her, screamed for her, but she could not hear his voice. Her legs felt as though they were stick in molasses when she tried to run to him, she could barely move. All around her, Sokovia crumbled. Everything familiar to her was destroyed over and over again, and every time she would be too slow, too weak, to get to her brother in time.

 

Wanda woke up sweating, breathing rapidly. The same dream as always, but something was different this time. She was not alone in her head. As she came to, Wanda expelled the unwanted visitor with a shriek, pushing him from her mind and apparently from her side as well.

 

With a flash of red light, her room was illuminated and she saw the Vision pushed back against her wall with a hard bang. He slumped forward momentarily, before righting himself and hovering by her side once more.

 

“Miss Maximoff. Forgive me,” the Vision spoke quietly, calmly. “I sensed you were in distress and came to help you. I tried to calm your thoughts and end what I believe to be a nightmare.”

 

With the adrenaline still pumping from the dream, Wanda was too stunned to formulate a response. She hadn’t had the feeling of someone else in her own mind since Pietro, and even that was a cause of her own powers. It was strange having someone else there; she wondered if the Vision noticed her occasional presence in his own vast mind.

 

The strange synthetic man seemed to take her silence as something negative. He continued to apologize. “I realize I have overstepped personal boundaries. Begging your pardon, I will excuse myself from your quarters.” The Vision turned away from her and headed for the door.

 

He was almost there when Wanda uttered a small, “Wait.”

 

The Vision turned around, his bright eyes visible even in the darkness of her room.

 

“Do you sleep?” Wanda asked. A sudden thought had crossed her mind.

 

“I…” he seemed confused by the line of questioning. “Occasionally yes. Not as often as humans. But it is good to occasionally restart my systems and so in a sense, to sleep.” He continued to float in her doorway as she stared at him from her crumpled sheets. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

 

“Would you fight me?” She asked. Before he even answered, she stood and began searching for proper attire to change into. Her boots were lodged underneath her bed; red tendrils crept out and snatched them for her.

 

“Miss Maximoff, I do not understand. I do not wish to cause you harm.”

 

“I meant spar me, not actually fight me,” Wanda clarified. Before he could reply, she commanded, “Turn around. I have to change.”

 

Obediently, he turned his back to her, cape fluttering to the ground. He spoke with his back turned, “Is it not the time for humans to sleep? Most everyone else is asleep within the compound.”

 

Wanda pulled on her jeans and a jacket to replace her pajamas. “Yes, it is time for sleeping. But I’ve slept all day, and had nightmares all day, and now I need to practice,” she told him.

 

“Captain Steve told us that you would be halting your fighting practice for the time being,” he recited to her, but there was a regretful edge to his voice which gave her hope to press forward.

 

From the floor where she zipped up her boots she murmured, “Fighting is the only thing that takes my mind off Pietro. I feel as though I am drowning without it.” It was not a lie, but Wanda still felt shameful guilt-tripping this perfect being into breaking the rules with her. But she _needed_ a distraction. It was paramount from the last few days of suffering.

 

He did not reply so she poked the slightest tendril of her mind to touch his. _Hesitation. Uncertainty. Concern._ “I would greatly appreciate your friendship, Vision.” She added. She immediately felt his mind process the word _friend_ with an innocent hope. Her shame doubled at her manipulation of him. _Oh I am going to Hell for this_ , she thought sullenly, but it was not enough to make her take back the words.

 

Finally, he turned back around and regarded her with an expression she couldn’t place, slightly changed from his usual indifference. Then he nodded. “I will spar with you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A new nightly routine began. Almost every night since Vision had woken her from her nightmare, the pair would meet in the training room and spar until daybreak. On the first night, and from then on, Vision suggested they stay out of each others minds for the sake of their sparring.

 

“It will be very simple to anticipate attacks if our minds are connected,” he spoke gently.

 

Not using her telepathic skills discomfited her, but Wanda agreed that it did seem silly to spar if they both knew exactly what the other was planning to do. It also discomfited her that for the first time in her life, the tables had been turned and someone else could see what _she_ was thinking.

 

So they sparred. Every night.

 

Each evening at dinner, while Wanda sat uncomfortably with the other Avengers and tried to make her presence seem small, the Vision would touch her mind with his foreign one, confirming if she would like to meet again that night.

 

_Would you wish to meet again tonight?_

The first time he did that, spoke directly into her mind, she nearly choked on the take-out that Natasha had ordered for them. Her gaze snapped to Vision, who looked back at her steadily, his face devoid of emotion.

 

 _I thought we agreed to stay out of each other’s heads?_ She replied, pushing the words into his mind. It was a very strange form of communication indeed, but she had to admit it gave her a certain thrill. It was like when she and Pietro were children and would try to make up their own language to speak privately in front of others.

 

_For the purpose of sparring, yes. If you would prefer to have your mind left alone always, I will not –_

_No!_ The intensity of her disagreement startled her, and apparently Vision as well, whose eyes widened at the onslaught of her mind seeking out more of his own.

 

  _I don’t mind it. It’s…_ She did not have to finish the statement as she was sure the android was picking up the emotions flicking through her brain: familiarity, comfort, support.

 

Vision smiled slightly at this. _I will join you in the training room later._

Before she could send back her affirmation, Tony Stark interrupted her thoughts and the conversations around her with, “Red Riding Hood, why the hell are you eye-fucking my robo-son?”

 

The others turned their attention to her, which was exceedingly uncomfortable in itself. She felt her cheeks warm, she hadn’t realized they had been staring at each other long enough for anyone to notice. Rhodey laughed loudly, and the others offered smiles.

 

“I do not understand this term,” Vision said, a curious tone to his otherwise monotonous voice. “What does it mean, to eye--?”

 

“It means that Tony Stark is a grade-A asshole,” Natasha offered with a curved smile at Stark. The others laughed even louder at this.

 

From Vision’s mind, though Wanda’s attention was now firmly focused elsewhere, she picked up confusion, which she expected, and also embarrassment, which surprised her. She didn’t realize Vision was capable of feeling that way.

 

Seemingly out of nowhere anger filled her once again, at Stark’s insolence, at her situation, at the fact that her teammates laughed at her. She stood and left the table without a word. Tony Stark called, “Oh come on Red, I was just kidding!” But Wanda did not go back to the table.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Fighting Vision thrilled her, distracted her, and exhausted her. It was the perfect mental cocktail to forget about her grief, if only for a few hours. At first she found it very difficult to fight without a link to her opponent’s mind; it startled her just how much she relied on it to plan her attacks. Though difficult, Wanda figured it was necessary to practice without it, so she could fight more on instinct like Natasha.

 

She was getting better at fighting without it, night after night. Yet Vision usually still managed to knock her on her ass at least half a dozen times throughout the very early morning. Every time this happened, he would float to her side, concern and guilt radiating off his crimson face.

 

“I’m fine Vision,” she told him for the hundredth time as she rose with a wince. “I didn’t come apologize to you after I smacked you into that wall a few minutes ago.”

 

She smirked at him, and he seemed to relax slightly. It was difficult to interact with Vision when she wasn’t looking inside his head as his face was almost always expressionless. Wanda liked to think she was getting better at it though.

 

“If you say so, Miss. Maximoff. Again?”

 

She stretched her limbs once and then nodded. “Again.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The secret night fighting continued on for about two weeks until she was found out. It was a shame too, truly, for Wanda had just figured out a move that no matter what Vision did, he couldn’t seem to counter it. She wanted to say she felt bad when he smashed into the floor again and again, but honestly she was only human, and it felt damn pleasing.

 

One morning, still sweaty and having just said goodbye to Vision, Wanda wandered into the kitchen intent on making coffee. The less she slept, the better. Normally no one else was awake yet and so she looked forward to not having to socialize.

 

However, on this morning Natasha was already there, leaning against the stone countertop. By all appearances it seemed the assassin was waiting for her. That thought was frightening enough, and Wanda realized there was no use in playing dumb.

 

“You know the training room has cameras, right?” Natasha asked, not unkindly. “It’s so we can watch back the training material and work on mistakes.” The coffee pot beeped and the agent picked up a mug, Wanda’s mug, and filled it before sliding it over to her.

 

The fact that Natasha seemed aware of her entire daily schedule made her stomach drop and unbidden anger swell in her fists. Wanda knew she had no one to blame but herself and that Natasha was simply doing her job, yet it was difficult to reign in her temper.

 

Natasha’s brow quirked, noticing Wanda’s clenched fists. To Wanda’s shame, she realized she was emitting a soft red glow. With a deep breath, she sucked her magic back inside and dropped her head.

 

“I watched your training tapes,” the Black Widow remarked. “I was honestly more surprised to discover who your partner was, rather than the fact that you were training in the first place. Didn’t think Mr. Godly Righteous Good would ever bend the rules.” She smiled.

 

Wanda had to laugh at that, and the sound was almost unfamiliar to her. “Vision is selfless. I had only to ask.”

 

Natasha looked as though she wasn’t quite sure if she believed her, but let it go. “You’ve improved a lot, training with Vision. Though you haven’t improved in the way Steve wants you to.”

 

 “I… I know. I fight with my anger and the Captain wants me to be in control.” She took a sip of the coffee Natasha made for her. “But I cannot let it go.”

 

If the woman was surprised by her honestly, she didn’t let it show. Her face remained a careful mask, no doubt due to years of training. Wanda wondered what was inside her mind, but knew that would be an invasion of privacy.

 

“It’s no easy task,” Natasha remarked, unnerving Wanda with her direct gaze. “But holding on to those who have left us will bring you nothing but pain. Anger at what’s happened won’t change it.” In an uncharacteristic gesture that took Wanda by surprise, the other woman reached out and pulled her into a gentle embrace. When she pulled back she said, “Stop hiding and let people help you. Also, it’s really nice to have another girl on the team.”

 

With that, she smiled and walked past her, leaving Wanda alone with her thoughts. Before she passed through the doorway though, the assassin called, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell Steve. Just try not to be so obvious about it next time.” With a wink, she was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

In the evening after Natasha had confronted her, Wanda sat away from the dinner table, but still in the same room so _technically_ that could be considered socializing. Her feet were curled under her as she read one of the dozens of novels that were on the common room shelf. She looked up when she felt the familiar sound of Vision’s mind coming towards her.

 

The android sat next to her and set down a plate of what looked to be Indian food, which must have been the take-out choice of the night.

 

“You have not eaten yet, Miss Maximoff,” he remarked.

 

Even though she wasn’t too hungry, she was not in the mood to argue or displease him, so she picked up the plate and began to eat. “Thanks, Vision.” He was much closer to her than usual, normally they were only this close in hand-to-hand combat. She did not comment on it, though.

 

His mind stretched out to hers. _Meeting again, tonight?_

She looked up at him from her food, meeting his bright eyes. From her close proximity she could see that within his eyes were tiny gears, moving in a rhythm.  

 

_Haven’t you seen Natasha’s mind recently?_

He tilted his head to the side, much like a dog when trying to hear better. She bit back a smile.

 

_I do not visit anyone’s mind except when we are in battle and it is practical. Apart from yours, of course, Miss Maximoff, since you gave me your permission._

This surprised her. Sometimes she couldn’t stop herself from listening in, if only to help her communicate better. But of course the perfect man wouldn’t do such a thing. Hearing her thoughts, he dropped his gaze to his hands, in what appeared to be a blush, if he was capable of such a thing.

 

Instead of explaining what had happened, she let her memories of her conversation with the Black Widow flow into Vision’s mind and watched as he worked through them. She watched him linger on the memory of her laughing, and for some reason this embarrassed her.

 

“I have never heard you laugh,” Vision said. His mind told her: curiosity, innocent fondness. There was something else there too that she couldn’t put her finger on. Often his mind was too vast and unusual for her to grasp his feelings.

 

“I don’t have many things to laugh about,” she replied. _And now that we can no longer fight, I feel as though I will waste away in my boredom,_ she added through their link. More like unbearable grief, but she did not feel like burdening Vision with those feelings, so instead she locked them deep in her mind, away from him. If he felt as though she was hiding something, he did not say.

 

“I assume you mean metaphorically waste away, and not physically. Perhaps we could find another activity that you would find enjoyable.”

 

When did it become _we?_ “You don’t have to waste your time with me, Vision. You’ve done enough, really, thanks for being my partner while you could.”

 

He shook his head slightly. “There has been a misunderstanding, Miss Maximoff. I enjoy spending time with you and I would like to continue to do so. Time spent with you is not wasteful in the slightest.” To prove his point, Vision gently offered memories to her: comradery when she would meet him in the training room, satisfaction when she would thank him for training with her, delight when her mind would connect with his.

 

Wanda did not know what to make of this admission. The thought that she was important to someone that wasn’t Pietro was almost shocking, though logically it shouldn’t have been.

 

“You could call me Wanda,” she offered, regarding the person… android… that she realized was her friend.

 

He smiled. _Okay, Wanda._

 

She thought for a moment. _Maybe you could help me get a handle on this whole flying thing. In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of just fling myself around._

He nodded, somewhat eager. _It would be my delight._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I very recently became huge vision/wanda trash and this is the result.


End file.
